


jamais vu

by vivevoce



Series: could've gone worse [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Did You Know I Love You Is Subjective?, Georgi Regrets Everything, M/M, Mila And Sara Are Pure, Misunderstandings, Neither Did Yuri, Oblivious Otabek, Passive Aggressiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 05:51:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10155398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivevoce/pseuds/vivevoce
Summary: HOW TO ACCIDENTALLY FRIENDZONE THE DUDE YOU'VE BEEN THIRSTING AFTER YOUR WHOLE LIFE: A MEMOIRby Otabek Altin::“Oh my fucking god, you didn't even realize, did you?”“I thought you meant it in a friend way!”“I was holding yourface!”Meanwhile, Georgi and Mila are both wearing expressions appropriate for people who'd just witnessed a car accident.





	

**Author's Note:**

> _The opposite of deja vu is called jamais vu. It's a French word meaning “never seen”. It's the feeling or experience that a person knows or recognizes a situation, but it still seems very unfamiliar or unknown._
> 
> Otabek is just chilling in Russia during the off-season, nbd

Yuri hearing his name screamed across the ice at 7 a.m is nothing new. Except, it's not Yakov who’s doing the screaming, and Yuri does not anticipate the tackle hug he gets immediately after. He remains standing, but just barely.

“Mila, GET OFF,” he huffs, ribs crushed.

“She said it! She said it shesaidit _she said it_ ,” Mila screams directly into his ear.

“Who said what?” Otabek asks in amusement, coming up to the both of them, skates in hand. He calmly sits down and starts lacing them up instead of helping Yuri, for which he earns a dirty look.

“Sara,” Mila squeals in happiness, finally letting go. Her hands fly to her cheeks, auburn curls covering her eyes. “She said I love you. Just yesterday!” Yuri refuses to admit seeing her like this is cute. “We were Skyping, and she made these _adorable_ little cue cards and held them up while this song played and…”

Okay Yuri literally has never seen her this giddy with her past relationships. Mila Babicheva has been breaking hearts before she even knew how to skate; she's been there, done that. Seeing her like this is… refreshing.

“Congrats,” Otabek says, while Yuri fondly rolls his eyes. Georgi is already coming over from his warm-up laps, drawn by all the noise.

“I can't believe you're making this big a deal out of it,” Yuri snorts, while Mila ignores him. “You've been together for 6 months. We all saw it coming.”

“It’s a HUGE deal,” Georgi insists, clapping his hands to his chest romantically. He must've gotten the news from her earlier. “Don't tell me you two weren't the same way.”

Yuri crosses his arms while Georgi slyly glances at Otabek, who only continues lacing his skates. “Yeah, and it wasn't THAT big a deal.”

“Bullshit,” Mila challenges, raising an eyebrow.

“It wasn't,” Yuri says wryly, now playfully looking at Otabek. “Remember?”

“You don't think it was romantic?” Otabek asks, and Yuri gives him a strange look.

“Uhm. Are we both thinking about the same moment?”

“Yeah? I thought it was romantic.”

“When I said I loved you and you totally ignored it and friend-zoned me?”

“Wait.”

Silence.

“I did _WHAT?”_

_More awkward silence._

 

::

 

It had been in Almaty during the summer. Otabek had extended an open invitation for Yuri to visit for ages, and it wasn't until then that they both found a weekend gap in their training schedules and PR duties. Otabek had promised to take him to Zhybek-Zholy, affectionately called Arbat, the pedestrian street he liked to go to on the weekends when he was home.

“Arbat, huh?” Yuri had remarked in amusement, licking on his ice cream. “That's a pedestrian street in Moscow too, you know.”

“I know,” Otabek had answered, munching on some plump blackberries he'd picked up from a vendor earlier. “Just thought I’d see how it compared to yours.” A small part of him was now wondering if this was a good idea, if this could possibly compare to the original, but Yuri's expression set him at ease.

“I like it,” Yuri said, eyes catching on the dozens of paintings hung in rows on fences and railings by local artists. The smell of street food sizzled in the air, musicians took requests as they played their guitars, and every so often they'd pass by trinkets or jewelry or clothes that Yuri would stop and stare at.

A little girl blew bubbles that the wind carried in their direction, and Otabek's eyes trailed to the stand that sold them. It had all these cheap toy water-guns, and he’d looked innocently back at Yuri.

“I can already tell what you're thinking,” Yuri warned. “The answer is: no cheap shots.”

“What's that? Aim for the face?” Otabek asked, already walking away. “Okay.”

“Asshole!”

They'd tried to do it whenever the other wasn't looking, and especially tried to avoid getting anyone caught in their crossfire. Yuri was grinning, his white t-shirt soaked and golden hair clinging to his face and Otabek was so busy staring he got water up his nose when he failed to dodge.

“I'm all out,” Yuri had said, pumping the empty gun. Otabek shook his hair like a dog, spraying Yuri with droplets. “HEY!”

“My bad,” Otabek apologized, sounding not very sorry at all.

Yuri was grinning at him, all soft green eyes and even bright teeth, as he reached out to push the hair back from Otabek's face. “You're such a dick. I love you...”

 

::

 

“Oh my fucking god, you didn't even realize, did you?”

“I thought you meant it in a friend way!”

“I was holding _your face!”_

Meanwhile, Georgi and Mila are both wearing expressions appropriate for people who'd just witnessed a car accident.

 

::

 

Otabek’s heart had stuttered in his chest, as he focused on every individual droplet prisming Yuri's face instead of making eye contact. Yuri’s fingers were cool against his hairline, and drifted down to his cheek. He seemed to be waiting for an answer. “Thanks,” Otabek found himself saying. “I'm glad you're here too.”

 

::

 

“And then _you fist bumped me.”_

“Oh _no_ ,” Mila groans, while Georgi winces in second-hand embarrassment.

“Because I didn't want to make a big deal out of it!”

“I _never_ said I love you before that point, what the hell? There isn't even a casual way of taking that!”

“I regret bringing this up,” Georgi whispers to Mila, who can only nod in resignation.

 

::

 

It's a day and a half later and Yuri is STILL making passive aggressive comments about it every time they're together.

“I'm sorry,” Otabek repeats for the nth time.

“It’s fine,” Yuri deadpans, and Otabek stares silently at the ceiling for patience. “I forgive you. What else are _friends_ for?”

“In my defense, you never corrected me about it either,” Otabek points out flatly.

“... Why would I do that, Beka?” Yuri asks. “We didn’t even see each other in person again for like, 4 months. I got over it.”

Oh yeah, because Otabek can _definitely_ see that. “It was an honest mistake. Why does it matter so much to you?”

Wait. That sounded a lot less terrible in his head.

“Wow.” Yuri stares. “Forget it. I didn’t realize that me being vulnerable meant so little to you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“That’s how it sounds.”

“Yura…”

But Yuri is already turned away and walking into the next room. This just gets better and better.

 

::

 

"Is Yuri still mad at you?" Mila asks, noticing how Yuri had put his earbuds in and started without him. He's having Georgi spot him on the rack.

Otabek's resigned growl as he moves towards the free-weights is answer enough. "I don't know why he's making such a big deal out of this."

Mila's incredulous eyebrow stops him. "You've got to be joking."

"What?" Instead of answering, Mila grabs the 20 lb weights and starts doing her own reps in silence next to him. 

"Do you even know how long it took him to say I love you to me?" Mila asks after her first set. Otabek considers her reflection in the mirror before shaking his head. "He hasn't. That's the point. Yuri doesn't say things like that in a friend way."

Oh. 

"I..." Otabek feels like he shouldn't be surprised, but he still is. "But I hadn't  _done_ anything. Why would he say it back then?"

Mila sighs loudly and starts working on her triceps. "I'll let you figure that one out, Otabek."

Otabek's in the middle of his cardio when he realizes and almost slides off the treadmill. He approaches Yuri, who is in the middle of his cool-down stretches. He pauses, then stretches his hamstrings, which is his way of acknowledging Otabek's presence. Otabek swallows hard.

“Hey. Can we talk? I just realized some things." 

Yuri takes out his earbuds. "Sure."

 

::

 

“I’m proud of you,” Yuri had said. They were lying side by side in Otabek’s hotel room, post GPF. It was after the banquet, which they’d left around midnight in favor of coming back to throw off their restricting formal wear (and rest their aching, abused muscles). Otabek had finally medaled this year, the gleam of silver nestled in the hollow of his throat. Yuri fiercely defended his gold title, and in a rare moment of tact, kept his medal hidden under the folds of his jacket.

“Thank you,” Otabek returned, exhausted and glowing. “Still can’t believe it happened.”

“Way to sell yourself short, Altin,” Yuri snorted. “It was only a matter of time.”  
  
Otabek hummed, nestling his head onto a more comfortable part of his arm. Then he leaned up and they rearranged themselves. Only recently had they developed this quiet _thing_ between them. It involved lots of listening to music with the same earbuds as Otabek pillowed his head on Yuri’s stomach, or curling onto each other in the middle of movies. They were doing the former now, and Otabek sighed.

“At least I beat JJ.”

“He had it coming,” Yuri said in satisfaction. Otabek shook his head in amusement.

“You’re not going to let it go, are you?”

“You _earned_ bronze that year--”

“Yura,” Otabek chuckled. “What’s done is done.”

“Fine. But I’m still pissed on your behalf.”

“Starting to think it’s more that you don’t like JJ than it is on my behalf.”

“You earned it,” Yuri said, with a startling amount of conviction. Stubborn. “I watched your performance again, to see what the judges missed. You gave it everything you had, landed all your jumps, and the _look_ in your eyes...” Yuri shook his head, ignoring the stunned silence as Otabek leaned up on one elbow. “I don’t get it. I never will. But I guess they made up for it tonight.”

“I love you,” Otabek said, and everything changed. He steeled himself.

“Did you just...?” Yuri asked unsteadily. Yeah. That just happened. They had said _“I really like you”_ and _“I care about you”_ before, but never this. Otabek was oddly more scared right then than he was waiting for his score in the kiss and cry.

“Yeah... I love you,” Otabek repeated softly. Yuri had this glow underneath the surface of his skin that broke past the exhaustion.

“Oh,” Yuri whispered, the corner of his eyes creasing. “Okay.”

 

::

 

“So, what?” Yuri sighs. He releases, and then works on loosening his quads. “It only counts when you say it?”

Otabek groans. “It didn’t click until I did, okay?”

“What didn’t click?”

“How it wasn't anything you _did,_ it was just who you _were._ ” Yuri just stares at him. "Honestly? When you said it the first time, I hadn't really _done_ anything to deserve it. That's why I didn't…” Otabek is straightfaced. “I didn't think you could've meant it romantically. It didn't seem like a big deal.” 

"Deserve… _The fuck?”_ Yuri shoots up indignantly. “Do you just literally not know how love works?”

“Maybe?”

“... You’re…” Yuri sounds strangled. “Oh my god, you _suck._ ”

“I know.” Otabek shrugs awkwardly. “I had to really think back to when I first said it and then… it made sense." 

“... So you get it now?”

“I get it. I'm sorry for accidentally rejecting you. And thinking you were overreacting. Saying it that first time was fucking terrifying for me too.”

“You’re so dense sometimes,” Yuri says in exasperation, coming up to him at last. He slides his hands up Otabek's waist, thumbs stroking comfortingly, and Otabek noses at his shoulder in apology. “I can't believe you had to apply _logic_ to a _feeling._ ”

“Cut me some slack,” Otabek mumbles. “It’s not like I’ve ever felt this way before you.”

“I haven't either, and look who still figured it out first.” Yuri rolls his eyes. “Where's your excuse?”

“...” Otabek thunks his forehead against Yuri’s chest as Yuri cards gentle fingers through his hair. “I really do suck.”

“Great. Too bad I already love you.”

“Yeah, you’re stuck with this. Good luck.”

“Fucker,” Yuri says so affectionately that Otabek looks up. He gets kissed on the tip of his nose. Then his cheek.

“You keep missing,” Otabek can’t help pointing out. “You gonna kiss me or-- _mmph._ ”

Guess so.

**Author's Note:**

> #RIP Yuri Plisetsky's Ego
> 
> on a side note, Almaty has a lot of cool places to go to! Kok-Tobe, Medeu Ice Rink, and Chimbulak Ski Resort all came pretty close to being used
> 
> ~~anyone wanna fund my trip abroad? i swear it's for research~~


End file.
